


Makes the Rush Come

by Anonymous



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Blow Jobs, Chikan, Facials, Frottage, M/M, Post-Canon, Reunions, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-06-02 16:44:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6574048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nijimura Shuuzou thought he'd put some things behind him. Himuro Tatsuya isn't one of those things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Makes the Rush Come

**Author's Note:**

  * For [abrey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/abrey/gifts).



> I played fast and loose with the timeline here. Just pretend they're all legal and can drink alcohol in a bar without a fake I.D.

More people packed the station than usual. Shuuzou wasn't exactly sure why. A baseball game, maybe? Great. Another nightmarish day on public transit. He glanced over at Kiyoshi in apology. "Sorry. I completely forgot." Not like they had any other options, with his car being in the shop. _Shitty piece of crap._

Kiyoshi waved off his words with a smile. "Don't worry about it." He took in the surrounding crowd. "It's nice being out and about."

Well, sure. That was the whole point of this outing. To celebrate Kiyoshi finally completing physical therapy and kissing that crutch goodbye once and for all. Shuuzou just hadn't counted on there being this many people being out and about too.

His thoughts must have tempted the universe. A man bumped into him at that exact moment. Hard. Shuuzou could barely catch his footing before he rammed into Kiyoshi.

What the hell. Where did this asshole think he was going? Did he honestly think he was going to shove his way up to the front so he could get on the next train first?

But before he could even open his mouth to snap at the other guy, Kiyoshi said, "Himuro?"

Shuuzou froze. No. No way. It had to be a coincidence. Himuro wasn't a rare name and besides, he was in Japan—

"Himuro, Murasakibara's friend, right?"

Oh shit. It _was_. Akashi's emails had kept him up to date about his former teammates—with enough details to figure out that Murasakibara now played with Himuro Tatsuya, the object of way too many wet dreams those first few months after he'd come to the United States.

Shuuzou had just enough time to steel himself before the guy who'd practically knocked him over only moments before turned sharply in surprise.

Yeah, it was Himuro. Same mole. Same obscured eye. Same obscenely beautiful face. Just older. More mature. Polished.

_Oh, fuck me._

Unfortunately, Himuro's gaze skipped right over Shuuzou to Kiyoshi. His one visible eye widened. "Iron-heart."

Kiyoshi grimaced. "Please don't call me that."

Himuro smiled serenely and damn, _that_ hadn't changed either. To save his sanity, Shuuzou focused on Kiyoshi. He couldn't keep looking at Himuro or he'd do something embarrassing. "I guess you would know Himuro. You played each other, right?"

His voice drew Himuro's attention and for an instant, Shuuzou had the strangest feeling that the other guy had been aware of his presence the entire time. But that couldn't be right. It'd mean that Himuro had ignored him on purpose and why would he do that?

Kiyoshi looked between the two of them. "You two have met?"

The smile on Himuro's face didn't waver as he met Shuuzou's gaze. "Yes. We're _old_ friends."

Shuuzou shifted uncomfortably and looked over his shoulder. Himuro pushing through a crowd could only mean one thing. "So what's the rush?"

Confirmation came in the form of an angry shout. Typical.

Shuuzou didn't look. He had plenty of memories that played out like this, of guys chasing down Himuro for some insult or another. Well, maybe not _exactly_ like this. "When did you get in L.A.?"

"Last night."

"And you're already back to your old habits? I thought you were done with that."

"I could say the same about you." Himuro nodded at Shuuzou, who was in the process of cracking his knuckles.

Ah, shit. He hadn't even realized what he was doing.

Kiyoshi shook his head at them. Shuuzou could tell his friend was getting no small amount of amusement out of the situation. "Get ready. The train's coming."

The next couple minutes were chaos. Doors opening. People waiting for passengers to get off before coming to the horrible realization that no one was getting off.

In the middle of it, Shuuzou asked, "Should we?"

Kiyoshi shrugged but Himuro was already in motion, showing every sign of forcing his way onto the train. Shuuzou watched his back weave through the crowd. There was no way he was going to make it on. There was no way _they_ were going to make it on.

But to his disbelief, Himuro proved him wrong. He somehow made it onto a car. Probably dazzled the people around him with that sly glance. Distracted them enough so he could slip on with no problems.

Shuuzou should leave it. He knew he should. The last time he'd spent any amount of time in Himuro's presence, he'd been left constantly bewildered and horny. Apparently, his body still remembered those feelings like it was yesterday. Great.

But Himuro was here. Now. Today.

Without a glance back at Kiyoshi, Shuuzou took off after him.

Luck must have been smiling down. Just like luck had brought Himuro to the same station as Shuuzou, luck allowed him to get on the train somehow. Kiyoshi, too.

#

Not everything went so smoothly though. Luck had a capricious sense of humor, it turned out. While he'd ended up next to Himuro, the crush of the crowd had separated him and Kiyoshi. Shuuzou regretted that. He could have used the buffer. Kiyoshi had a way of calming him down while Himuro…didn't.

"You and Iron-heart are friends? What a nice coincidence."

Shuuzou couldn't decide if Himuro was being sarcastic. He chose to believe not. "He did his physical therapy at the same medical center that treats my old man."

"Small world."

Too fucking small, in Shuuzou's opinion.

The train took a curve, sending the standing passengers off-balance. The packed crowd shifted as if one. Which meant both Shuuzou and Himuro found themselves pressed against a divider.

And each other.

Shuuzou ground his teeth together. "Sorry—" He paused. No way. He dropped his voice to a whisper. "What is your hand doing?"

The serene expression on Himuro's never changed. "My hand? My hand's not doing anything."

He couldn't be serious. Shuuzou tried to look down between them except the train took another curve, and whatever miniscule space there existed between them vanished.

Pressed together from shoulder to knee, there was no mistaking Himuro's hand cupping his semi-hard dick through his jeans.

"What are you doing?" he whispered harshly, glancing around to see if anyone noticed. This wasn't Japan where people pretended not to see. With as many children as there were on this train, they could get in serious trouble if someone caught on.

"What do you mean?" Himuro asked as he fondled him. Shuuzou had no idea how he could do that while keeping such a calm expression. It was all he could do not to thrust his hips forward. "I'm just saying hello to an old friend."

"This isn't how you say hello to a friend." Shuuzou was proud of himself. He managed to keep his voice steady for the most part. His breathing, on the other hand, not so much.

Himuro played with the button on his jeans, teasing it out of the hole partway before slipping back into place. "It's how you want to say hello to you, isn't it? Unless I'm remembering wrong, it's how you've always wanted me to say hello…"

Shuuzou stiffened, his hands curling into fists. He couldn't touch Himuro. He couldn't. Who knew what would happen if he did?

"You weren't very subtle." He leaned closer and pressed his lips against Shuuzou's ear. "So are you and Kiyoshi _friends_?" he purred.

Shuuzou couldn't help it. He closed his eyes at the soft breath gliding over the sensitive skin. Part of him wanted to push the other guy away—not like that was possible in this packed train—but another part, a bigger part, wanted to lean into him.

He knew better. He couldn't afford to give into temptation. The last time he'd done that...well. Like Himuro had said, he apparently hadn't been very subtle. It'd been a stressful time, filled with sudden cross-Pacific relocations, a sick father, and acclimating to Los Angeles. Subtlety hadn't been available to him then.

Too bad it seemed like it wasn't available to him now either.

"I don't know what you're implying." Shuuzou tried to shift away from Himuro but all his movements did was make the other guy's hand grind into his dick.

"No?" That serene smile was back, the one that _looked_ calm on the surface but when paired with the sharp look in that one visible eye, said something else.

"What about you?" Shuuzou forced himself to breathe evenly. "Last I heard, there was a red-haired jumping monster waiting for you back in Japan."

"Taiga?" Surprise filled Himuro's face, so much so that it couldn't be faked. "Wait." The affected smile gave way to genuine amusement while his hand stopped moving. Shuuzou wasn't sure whether he should be happy or lament the fact. "Is that what they're saying about me and Taiga?"

Shuuzou shrugged. "I heard you have some history." And maybe, in another life, had things been different, he would have met the mythical Kagami Taiga instead of Himuro Tatsuya  when he first came to the United States. Maybe then he could have had a regular platonic friend in Kagami instead of…whatever this was with Himuro. Not much point dwelling on it now, though.

Himuro shook his head. "Taiga is my little brother. My younger, very talented brother."

"Yeah?" he replied. "Well, Kiyoshi is my friend. My friend who just finished physical therapy for his knee."

Himuro nodded. "I remember that," he said quietly. "His knee. He may hate that nickname, but it suits him." His fingers traced the outline of Shuuzou's dick through his jeans. "So, what? Going out to celebrate or something?"

Shuuzou nodded. By this point, he'd given up trying to make sure no one else around them noticed. No one had screamed yet or called them perverts, so they were safe for the time being.

"Can I join?"

Now, why'd he ask that question? Given the state of his dick, surely he already knew Shuuzou's answer.

#

It _did_ seem like a good idea at the time. Himuro joining Kiyoshi and him for a couple drinks. Kiyoshi was so good-natured, he wouldn't mind. They had some memories from high school, too, so it wasn't like it'd be awkward either. And as an added bonus for _him_ , with Kiyoshi there, it'd be easier for Shuuzou to keep his distance and avoid a repetition of their...exchange in the train.

Yeah. Good ideas.  _Great_ ideas.

They hadn't even drunk that much. Just a couple beers. Not even remotely enough to get tipsy. Maybe a little buzzed. _Maybe._

Too bad the same couldn't be said about the other guys in the bar.

Too bad Himuro was just too pretty for some of those guys to leave alone.

Too bad Shuuzou just couldn't help but get in the middle of _that_ , even though he was well aware that Himuro was quite capable of taking care of himself.

And too bad those other guys had no manners and were rude enough to smash their faces into his fists.

The night went downhill from there.

"Sorry," he apologized again when they arrived at Kiyoshi's stop.

"It's okay," Kiyoshi replied. What the hell. How can Kiyoshi manage to escape the bar brawl unscathed while he and Himuro were disasters? His shirt wasn't even wrinkled. He waved at them, his eyes falling on Himuro, who was using Shuuzou as a convenient human crutch. "Take care. It was...interesting."

Shit. He knew. Well, whatever. "Good night."

The doors slid shut and the train pulled away from the station. The instant it did, Himuro came alive and shoved Shuuzou down into one of the seats.

The sudden impact against his back and legs knocked the air straight from his lungs, "Hey," he said sharply, even as his pulse accelerated. Dammit. No matter how long it'd been, he still reacted the same way to Himuro. It pissed him the hell off. "What are you doing?'

For that matter, what was _he_ doing? Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to stay in the empty train car with Himuro. He should have found some excuse to get off the train with Kiyoshi. But that was just as rude, wasn't it? Leaving Himuro by himself after a bar fight?

Shuuzou winced. Even in his head, it all sounded like weak excuses to justify staying in the other guy's presence for longer. Why would he think _that_ was a good idea? Kiyoshi wasn't here to play buffer anymore.

Himuro hummed and leaned over him, pressing close and nosing somewhere behind Shuuzou's ear. Panic spiked. No way. He couldn't be serious. Shuuzou wedged his hands between them and shoved him off. Successfully, this time even.

Unfortunately, success didn't last long. Himuro retaliated by going for his dick again. He'd even gotten the fly of his jeans half-undone before Shuuzou could recover from his shock and bolt from the seat.

"Himuro," he tried desperately. "We are on a fucking train."

Himuro followed him. He gestured at the empty seats around them. "Do you see anyone else on this train?"

Shuuzou squinted and peered down the car into the next one. That one had people in it. If one of them happened to look over—

Himuro glanced over his shoulder. "Is that what you're worried about?" He moved forward, pressing against Shuuzou. He had no choice but to back away. Not if he wanted to retain any semblance of control.

Not that he'd been in control at any point in this evening. Shuuzou wasn't that delusional.

When Shuuzou felt his back hit a solid surface, he realized that Himuro had herded him behind a partition. He hated himself a little bit for the relief that flooded him. Less chance of being seen but it still didn't solve the main problem. "I forgot how much you like fighting."

"You like fighting too." Himuro leaned forward and licked the side of his mouth. Shuuzou flinched at the contact. Some asshole's knuckles had split his bottom lip.  "Look good doing it also."

 _Not as good as you._ Shuuzou mercifully managed to keep the thought to himself. He'd never live it down if Himuro heard him say the words out loud. It was bad enough that  the other guy knew about his attraction. _Had_ known about his attraction all this time.  

And the fact that Shuuzou was _still_ attracted to him.

"Himuro," he said, though there was no pretending his voice didn't break over the syllables of the other guy's name.

Himuro ran his tongue over Shuuzou's bottom lip one last time before pulling away. "What? Your mouth was messy. I was just cleaning it up."

He shook his head. "I don't think this is a good idea."

That lone visible eye glinted in the flickering light of the train. "Really?" he asked. "I disagree." Himuro mouthed the place where his shoulder met his neck, mapping the tendons and skin.

Shuuzou hissed at the slightest graze of hard teeth and wet tongue. Fuck. "You're hurt."

"Not as bad as you." He tilted his head and for one split second, Shuuzou thought he saw the other eye, normally obscured by his hair. "Come on, doesn't this bring back good memories?"

Himuro nipped at his neck. Shuuzou groaned. "Depends on what you mean by good memories." He squeezed his eyes shut. This couldn't be happening. He couldn't let this happen. They were on a train. Anyone could board at any time and the flimsy protection of the partition wouldn't save them then.

The soft laugh caught him by surprise. The fact that it made his knees buckle even more so. But it was a little buckle. Just a split second. Nothing permanent.

Shit. He was in serious trouble.

"I think our first meeting was a good memory."

Shuuzou snorted. "That's an interesting way of looking at it."

"You don't think so?" Himuro took his hand and ran his tongue over the wrecked knuckles.

He stared. "You shouldn't..." The rest of the sentence died on his tongue. He really shouldn't like the sight of Himuro's wet tongue running off the bumps and dips so much.

Himuro met his eyes and holding his gaze, ran his tongue up a finger before catching it between his teeth. The corners of his mouth lifted in a small smile.

"What are we doing?" he asked finally.

Himuro released his finger with a laugh. "I think that's pretty obvious." Then he dropped to his knees.

Shuuzou sucked in a breath and threw a wild glance around them. They'd stopped twice in the time Himuro had crowded him behind the divider. The train was still as empty now as it was then. But still.

He looked down.

Himuro used both hands to rub his half-exposed erection. When Shuuzou made no move to stop him, he caught the zipper between his teeth and tugged it the rest of the way down.

"Wait." He tangled his fingers into Himuro's hair, holding his head in place. "That's not what I mean. Why are we doing this _now_?" Despite a couple awkward moments that Shuuzou had convinced were all in his head, nothing had happened back then. Why was Himuro so intent about this now? They'd literally just run into each other a few hours ago. It wasn't like they'd had much opportunity to talk in the bar. For all he knew, Himuro had someone waiting for him back in Japan.

The thought left a sour taste in the back of his throat.

"Why not now?" Himuro tugged Shuuzou's dick free. It slapped against his cheek.

"Sorry," he said, eyes zeroing him on the wet smear it left on Himuro's skin.

"Don't be." Himuro fisted him with such sleek precision that Shuuzou couldn't help but wonder who else he'd done this to.

Then he couldn't wonder much of anything else at all because Himuro took him into his mouth. "Fuck." His hips snapped forward instinctively, thrusting hard.

Himuro choked.

Chest heaving, Shuuzou eased back. Not much, though. That mouth was too hot and wet and felt too good around his length. He ran his fingers through Himuro's hair, brushing the bangs off his forehead, out of his eyes.

Big mistake. One eye was bad enough. Both of them visible and focused on him and nothing else was practically unbearable. Especially when Himuro fought against his grip and began to slide his mouth up and down.

His eyes rolled into the back of his head. "Fuck," he gasped.

It was all the encouragement Himuro needed—not that he'd needed much. His tongue swirled around the head before his head bobbed down again. Shuuzou wondered if it was possible to have his brain sucked out of his dick.

Shuuzou moved again, with more control this time. Himuro matched his rhythm, taking more and more of him into his mouth with each thrust. For one blissful moment, he felt his tip tease the sweet tightness of Himuro's throat.

The last vestiges of his control snapped. He pushed Himuro's head down as he thrust his hips forward. Himuro must have been expecting it. He swallowed, taking him all the way to the root.

Shit.

Shuuzou yanked him off his dick. He had a moment to savor the expression on Himuro's face—both eyes visible, wide and dilated, lips slick with spit and pre-come—before he came hard and fast. Strings of white  splattered across his nose, cheeks, even his forehead.

A moment passed. Then another. Probably more than that. By the time Shuuzou was able to process information coherently again, he mostly had control over his breathing.

"That didn't take long," Himuro observed.

Shuuzou tugged Himuro's head back so that his throat was bared. "I'm still hard."

Himuro gave him a long, considering look. Then his tongue darted out to lick the come near the corner of his mouth. "So am I."

Shuuzou smiled at him. "We should do something about that." He pulled Himuro to his feet.

Himuro watched as Shuuzou went to work on his jeans. "I was wondering if I'd have to do all the work."

He flushed. "Shut up," he muttered. "You took me by surprise." Then he spied the smirk. "Stop teasing me, you asshole."

"But you react so well," Himuro replied simply before kissing him.

The kiss caught him off-guard. It wasn't that he didn't want to kiss Himuro. The opposite, actually. Hard not to imagine what those lips would taste like when he'd been licking Shuuzou's mouth like it was candy.

But Shuuzou would be lying if he said he hadn't expected something else. Something harder and sharper maybe. Not this lingering sweetness that made it seem like Himuro was savoring his mouth.

Shuuzou leaned into the kiss as he wrapped his fingers around Himuro's cock. A shudder rewarded his touch so he gave a few experimental strokes. That earned him a strangled gasp. "Someone's eager," he muttered against those wet lips.

Himuro responded with an urgent thrust into his fist.

Shuuzou broke the kiss and whispered, "Come closer."

For once, Himuro obeyed. He didn't even make a quip or anything. That, more than anything else, calmed Shuuzou. Good to know he wasn't the only one affected by this.

Himuro stepped into his space and ducked in for another kiss. Strange. Shuuzou had never pegged him for a kissing kind of guy but then again he'd never thought of himself as someone who'd want to have sex on a train either. He lined himself up against Himuro and, hissing through his teeth, wrapped his hand around both their dicks.

The low groan that came out of Himuro's throat fell on his ears like music. His hand eased into a slow, steady rhythm that soon had both of them gasping and grinding against each other. Himuro reached down between them and intertwined their fingers together even as Shuuzou's hand kept pumping up and down.

Himuro came, gasping quietly into Shuuzou's shoulder. A quiet sort of guy, huh? He wondered what it would take to make him be loud and if _he_ could be the one to do it. The mental image was enough to bring him to orgasm not long after.

Shuuzou slumped against the wall, Himuro half-collapsed against him. After a few minutes passed, Himuro said, "So, where do you live?"

The question surprised him. He didn't know why. After everything that had happened today, you would think nothing could surprise him anymore. Leave it to Himuro. "Why? Don't you have a place to stay?"

"Of course." Himuro rubbed against Shuuzou and damn, it felt good. "I was just wondering if I could see your place."

Shuuzou squinted at him. "Anything particular thing you'd like to see?"  _Like my bed._

Himuro pulled back far enough for Shuuzou to see his smile. "You learn fast." He ran a finger down his dick, which was making a valiant effort to come to attention. "I want to know what this feels like inside me."

"And is that all you want to do?" He didn't know why he was asking. He wasn't completely sure he wanted to know the answer. Himuro never struck him as the kind of guy who could be caught, let alone kept, so easily.

But that didn't mean he didn't need to know anyway.

Himuro leaned against his shoulder. "We can talk too."

"Yeah?" he said. It wasn't much, but other things started with much less. He could work with this.

"Yes," Himuro confirmed before he silenced any other questions with his mouth.

Shuuzou had no complaints. 


End file.
